by Chogan Swan
From the heights, a trumpet answered Seth's call, and Larain swerved toward them still on the run. The Tyr-Goth stopped their efforts to grind the forces of Perth into the cliff for a moment to turn and look at this new development. On seeing the Larain cavalry charging with lowered lances from high ground, they fell back in panic.
Even the baalim couldn't keep them under control though they screeched in rage and lashed out with their dark swords. The fear they created, they could not direct, and the men of Tyr-Goth broke off and flee down the hill.
Perth's commanders shouted orders, and the knights of Perth and Wyatt's mercenaries surged forward with a shout. From their position against the cliff they fought their way uphill along the cliffs, pushing the Tyr-Goth back and into the path of the charging cavalry. The baalim screamed in rage and manifested in their shadow forms.
Still, they were ridden down and impaled, neither horse nor rider flinching at their sudden eldritch appearance.
Down the slope swept Larain, driving the enemy into the boulder field. Then, in perfect order, they swerved to the right, and drove into the main body of the Tyr-Goth.
Perth's knights cheered. They admired good horsemanship, and Edvard's ability to keep his men in formation after such a long advance was much better than that…. It was heroic.
They forgot their weariness and rushed to support Larain. Wyatt waved his arm, and his men followed him, cutting higher up the slopes. They fell on the Tyr-Goth. Margai and Coran regrouped and came rushing down the hill.
Like a great beast with its back broken, the northern army thrashed in confusion. Over-extended, now their order was collapsing. Though they still outnumbered the easterners, no one commanded them. The armies of the east were on the high ground and they knew how to make that count.
Then throughout the Tyr-Goth spread a shout, “Balaak is dead.” The call repeated and echoed among them a message filled with both doom and hope.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
Many prisoners were taken of the Tyr-Goth that day. When they saw the way the fight had turned against them, they threw down their weapons by the thousands. It was a source of wonder to the men of the east. It was common knowledge that though, the Tyr-Goth might flee, they never surrendered. Somehow, something changed. Though some refused to surrender, over three thousand laid down arms and begged for mercy. Though the east hadn’t been prepared for such an event, there were plenty of chains in the camp of the enemy to secure them all; Clearly, Tyr-Goth hoped to take many slaves in their conquest.
Jyrmak had been among the captives all morning calling them to repentance, and in some were glimmers of hope. Though their hardened natures were still with them, the yoke on their hearts was broken, and the creator called to them. After all, hadn’t they seen miracles?
Jyrmak smiled, he hadn't enjoyed himself this much for over a hundred years. Few prophets got the luxury of a captive audience.
He strode up the hill to the tent where the King lay and ducked inside. Keri still knelt by the King's side where he lay still on the cot.
“Outside, girl,” snapped Jyrmak. “How do you expect him to rest with you hovering about that way?”
Keri crawled out, face troubled. Jyrmak regretted his brusque words, she’d seen the arrow as it had been removed and knew it had pierced the lungs.
“How long does he have?” she whispered.
Jyrmak turned and cocked his head to the side a fraction. “That's hard to say,” he replied. “Before he went down and gave away part of his birthright, I would have said, two or three hundred years, but now, not long—thirty, forty years at the most.”
Keri grabbed Jyrmak's sleeve and pulled him aside. “What do you mean about giving up his birthright?” she demanded. “That's just what he said he was giv'n me, before he got shot.”
“Come now,” Jyrmak said, chiding. “You're a bright girl. The families of Evelon dwell in the world almost a millennia. He gave that away.”
“Seth will live to be a thousand years old?”
“He will if he starts being more careful,” snorted Jyrmak. “And so will you… now. You can tell me in a hundred years or so if you think it's a gift or a burden. Most say it's both.”
“People where I'm from get tired of living before they're thirty,” exclaimed Keri. “What would I do with so much time?”
Jyrmak bent his head and gestured for her to come nearer, “Serving the maker of the universe,” he whispered with excitement. “There is nothing else like it, and the first thousand years are only the beginning.”
Keri looked at him with wonder in her eyes.
Chapter 13 (Days of Light)
Arod sat back from the table and sighed. It was early morning and the cook had made a big breakfast of biscuits, eggs and lean sausage. He stood, stretched, enjoying the light of the sunrise streamed through the window. The summer breeze stirred the white linen curtains. Arod thumped the solid windowsill and sat on it with satisfaction. He liked wood in a house and he'd drawn on an old skill in architecture to design it himself.
The best carpenters and stonemasons in Gynt, Perth and Larain had built it in four short months. Artisans from all over the east had begged to join the volunteer workforce.
It wasn’t so large as the keep, but it was roomy, with three large wings, plenty of room for visiting family and guests. Also, it was much easier to keep warm in the winter, and that, thought Arod with a grin, was what he liked best.
From the window, a view of the ruins of the old keep, about two miles down the coast, jutted above the horizon. The sun stood just above its mound. Astronomers the world over were still trying to come up with an explanation for the strange behavior of the sun and moon a year ago. Though the heavens had gone back to the normal dance they did around the sky, the stargazers still watched them with suspicion.
Today would be a big day, a day full of arrivals. Wyatt and Alaina, the newly installed duke and duchess of the vast new Duchy of Tarr were due to arrive about lunchtime. Arod could hear the cook bustling in the kitchen putting ingredients in order.
Arturo, baron of Perth, and Fletch were also arriving with a “small retinue”. Arod had warned him any beyond ten would have to sleep in the stable, knowing the Ibuchan idea of a small retinue. Kane would arrive soon, fresh from six months in Raydcliffe. The bard had promised to perform the completed The Dragon and the Rose ballad for its debut performance.
Though he’d originally titled it The Ballad of the Pass, no one would call it that, so he’d let the popular title stand.
Marshall and Jyrmak, along with Seth and Keri, were taking a break from planning the new keep's construction to join the festivities.
Just then, Seth and Keri came clattering down the stairs. “Morning, Father,” Seth said. “Keri and I are riding to Skye's Village to get some fresh fish for the meal today. Do you want us to get anything special for you?”
“No, just get what the cook wants. That will be plenty to carry back,” said Arod.
As they passed the table, Keri grabbed a loaf of bread and tucked it into her pouch. She gave Arod a quick kiss as she ran out the door. Arod watched them mount the horses Sedrick held waiting for them and head south. Seven horse-sized dragons, glittering in the sun, came gliding and bounding from a nearby copse of trees to encompass them in a protective dome as they galloped. Keri's red-gold waves curled behind her like a banner.
Arod smiled. Already the kingdom was calling the two of them the Dragon and the Rose. The people had fallen in love with Keri, her frankness and lack of conceit. Arod had turned almost all the affairs of state over to Seth now. Though Seth sometimes chided him for not allowing him to enjoy his childhood—Arod was often astonished at his son's policies. The kingdom would flourish under him. Arod was most impressed with Seth’s decision to marry without an elaborate state marriage. If he’d waited, it would have been a diplomatic nightmare, but a marriage on a victorious battlefield, with all allies present saved the treasury a fortune. Even the Ihn-wazi and his four thou
sand warriors had arrived in time, fresh from their victory over the forest fighters they'd intercepted on the route to the pass.
Arod stepped out the door and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of yesterday's hay cut and drying in its windrows. He decided to stroll down and inspect the new orchard. As he walked, he felt the Captain walking beside him.
“Good morning, my Lord,” said Arod.
“I'm glad you like it,” whispered the quiet voice inside him.
“You have blessed my life beyond what I could imagine.”
“You are welcome,” sang the voice, echoing from the hills. Arod looked down at the orchard, not seeing trees, but across the years—the fruit of his labor, and his heart sang too.
“Not long now, Jyllanah my heart,” he whispered. “Not long now.”
~~~The End for now~~~
Hi! Chogan Swan here.
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